You find that aiming for their arms, which end in spikes that are powerfully effective at ripping your head off (but cannot be nearly so useful when it comes time to do up a trouser fly) stops them in their tracks. You then find that while removing the odd limb or even their heads slows them down, it does not necessarily stop them. This adds massively to the tension. It means that you can walk by a creature you were sure was dead, only to find him trying his best to impale you with his last remaining spiky appendage.
One way to avoid this is to run up to it and stamp on its head as soon as you see it in repose. This is dually effective: on the one hand, it's wonderfully visceral, seeing and hearing them virtually explode like an overly taut bag of blood below your foot; secondly, it gets around the part where they decide they aren't dead after all and spear you through the skull in a way that can cause a quite literally splitting headache.
As you wander around the ship, you find voice records that help you put together the puzzle of what happened on the ship, or help you deal with the obstacles you encounter and complete the objectives you need to progress. It is in the completing of objectives that the chink in
Dead Space™'s armour begins to show.
The game feels incredibly linear. It exudes a non-stop atmosphere of 'Go here to get this to go here to do this", even to the extent that if you depress the right stick, a highlight line shows you the way to your current objective. A lot of people will consider this a sackful of lame but I must admit that I hate wandering around aimlessly looking for stuff, so I quite like it. Sure, things occur during the quest that may alter or re-prioritise your objectives, but these do not feel like branches, just diversions on a one-way voyage.
OK, so none of this sounds like nothing you've heard before. But
Dead Space™ just nails it. The drama and tension of the game, the atmosphere if you will, are incredible. It really does create a level of anticipation that harkens back all the way to that time the peeled-dogs came for you in the first
Resident Evil. This is due in part to the level design which, while not revolutionary, is very good. It is mainly due to the incredibly good music and sound effects.
The music responds dramatically and instantly to any change in the status of play, when enemies are on screen it crashes orchestrally, but at other times, it swells in a way that heightens your senses, and makes you wary of impending danger that does not always manifest; all this creates an incredibly tense atmosphere.
The sound effects do their part, as monsters scurry around the vents of the ship, you can sometimes hear them pass by, which might indicate an impending skirmish or it might not. This keeps you on perpetually on edge.
There is a general groaning and clanking of the ship, which sometimes serves to mask the approach of enemies so they are upon you before you realise they are in the room. Because they travel around the ship by means of the vents and ducts, and like most space ships this one seems to be comprised predominantly of vents and ducts, they can drop in on you almost anywhere, even when you are backed into a corner that you consider safe.